


Discovery in Peru

by Toshua



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-19
Updated: 2013-03-19
Packaged: 2017-12-05 19:04:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/726844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toshua/pseuds/Toshua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years after TSBBS life has moved on.  Maybe not the way anyone imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discovery in Peru

_I found Sandburg today._

Simon looked at the sentence and tried to put his thoughts in order after the scramble they’d been in all day.

I finally made good on that promise to Daryl about fishing in South America - what- twelve years ago – for his college graduation present. We flew into Lima and caught a charter to Pisac, Pisak, something like that. From there a tour guide took us to what’s considered a lodge in that part of the world. 

Fishing was a disaster. Wrong bait, wrong hooks, wrong weight line, something. After two days of being totally skunked, I was all for moving somewhere else. Daryl agreed and, while he and our guide argued alternatives, I took a walk through the village the lodge boarded on. 

One of the well-trod trails was marked with a sign dangling from two woven vines. The first two languages didn’t mean anything to me, but the third was English. ‘Butterfly House’ the sign proclaimed ‘and Teaching Center.’ Splashes of color that vaguely looked like butterflies decorated the weathered board. Intrigued, I took the dirt and gravel path. Within a couple turns I was completely surrounded by jungle.

Laughter soon over-powered bird song and further pointed out I was on the trail of something different. The small trail opened up into a well-packed mud arena with flat rocks and stumps acting as desks, chairs and tables.

Sitting on the hard-packed floor surrounded by a multitude of indigenous children in native dress was Blair. I would have known him anywhere, but finding him here almost took my breath away in shock. 

His face was tan and his trademark curls were in a ponytail that was long over one shoulder and streaked with gray. He wore native clothes and vest with dark brown leggings down to his sandaled feet.

He balanced a small toddler on his lap with one hand, encouraging a timid finger to reach for a large butterfly perched on Sandburg’s arm.

“I don’t believe it.” My voice must have been as big a shock to him as his presence was to me. He froze in his whispered words to the child in his lap and his eyes flew up to meet mine, as wide and as blue as I remembered from ten years ago.

All the tittering laughter and voices around him stopped as a dozen sets of dark eyes turned toward me. The huge winged insect perched so delicately on Sandburg’s arm flew away. A few spoken words I didn’t understand sent the children scurrying away into the jungle. Within seconds it was just the two of us occupying the packed floor.

Sandburg stared at me from his crossed-legged position for a long time before finally climbing to his feet and dusting off the back of his pants.

“Simon Banks. Small world.” His voice had a trace of gravel tones, like he’d used it too much at a high volume or maybe a bad cold. I put the question of his voice aside for now. His eyes didn’t hold any warmth as he approached. 

“What are you doing here?” It was a stupid question and I knew it was the instant I uttered it.

The wary blue eyes blinked and a wrinkling of crow’s feet preceded his bright smile. “Living, Simon. Teaching the next generation the important things.” As fast as the smile came it was gone. Left in its place was old sorrow and pain that aged Sandburg’s face. 

I stuck out my hand and after an eternity of seconds he finally took it. His grip was firm and calloused. I used his grip to pull him into a hug. He was a tense wire before almost physically relaxing and returning my embrace with one arm before stepping away. In the brief moment I held him, I felt a very thin body hiding under the loosely-draped native fabrics.

A huge awkward silence dropped between us. Ten years of wondering what had become of Blair Sandburg was answered with even more questions. I looked around at the jungle surrounding us. “What is this place, Sandburg?” 

A gleam of the lost light returned to his eyes. “It’s a school. It’s a nursery, a sanctuary, sometimes it’s a refuge for the wounded.” His hands were flying the way I remembered and I found myself grinning.

“Butterfly House? You named a school Butterfly House?”

That comment brought another brief smile. “Don’t you like butterflies, Simon?”

His eyes locked on mine and I felt like the question was being asked on two levels. What did he really mean? I was saved from answering by a loud crash in the jungle behind us. My first thoughts were that I wasn’t armed followed quickly by the reminder that I was in a foreign country.

A flurry of voices was quickly followed by two little boys charging out of the undergrowth and straight into Sandburg’s legs. He laughed at their frantic voices and tones, glanced at me then past me. Before I could turn around I felt the strong presence behind me.

“Chief, you all right? The boys swore you were being attacked by a giant black monster.”

The voice was the same, but the man I faced now was far different than the Jim Ellison I had called friend years ago. In front of me was Sandburg’s Sentinel, not the detective I knew.

The Jim Ellison standing so casually at the edge of the jungle was a tribal warrior, armed with a bow across his back and a large machete tied on one hip over faded camo pants. His bare arms were tattooed underneath small knives in braided holsters. The black tank top was faded almost gray with age and wear, as was the skullcap tied tightly around his head. Several chains and leather braids circled his neck, various animal charms dangling from them.

Sandburg responded in another language with a quick grin, then said something to both boys, and they scurried away, vanishing as quickly as they appeared.

Ellison said something to Sandburg which Blair responded to with a chuckle. He went to the Sentinel’s side talking to him the whole time. Ellison’s blue eyes never left mine, his expression not changing, leaving me wondering what he was thinking. Ellison’s long arm reached out and pulled the smaller man behind his sheltering body. Sandburg protested the movement but stayed where he’d been placed. The moment stretched out until Blair took things into his own hands.

“Simon, you might say hello so Jim will quit playing Tarzan, because I am definitely not Jane.”

Jim’s eyes were still blue ice as I offered my hand. “Hello Jim. Long time.” It was another long moment before Jim finally met me halfway and gripped my hand. Like Sandburg’s his was hard and callused.

“Simon,” he finally spoke in a low tone. “What brings you to Peru?”

“Fishing with Daryl.” The neutral topic relaxed the tenseness that surrounded us. We had not parted under the best of terms.

Sandburg piped up again, no longer standing in Jim’s shadow. “Wrong river, man. The tribe moved its fishing to a new location years ago. Some tour company sold you a bill of goods.

“So we’ve found out.” My eyes were still on Ellison, trying to decode the ice. He was never easy to read when he worked for me; ten years and a continent of distance added to the difficulty. Silence lapsed and I was thinking of saying goodbye when one of the smaller children charged out of the jungle and into Sandburg’s leg.

The excited chatter directed up at Sandburg caused him to break into a laugh. He swung the little boy into his arms, and then spoke rapidly to Ellison before turning away and heading into the jungle. He looked over his shoulder at both men, and said. “Come on, they’re hatching!” before disappearing into the trees.

“Hatching?! Ellison, what -?”

Ellison was almost to the jungle edge before stopping to answer me. “His butterflies. You might as well see what he’s been doing for the last few years.” His voice didn’t hold any warmth but at least he was talking to me. I loped over to join him before the jungle swallowed him up.

“Hatching? Butterflies hatch?.” The green gloom almost absorbed the light and in the moment it took my eyes to adjust I almost lost him.

“Sandburg can give you the technical explanation.”

Several long strides behind the nearly silent Sentinel brought us to another small opening in the jungle. The twilight was illuminated with multiple colored lanterns perched in the thick under growth. Sandburg was kneeling on the ground; a group of small children gathered around him, all eyes intently watching a low curved branch. Whispers and twitters of laughter broke the silence.

“Jim, come see!” Sandburg’s excited near-whisper was louder than the others.

I was forced to follow Ellison and crouch lower, not seeing what the small group was so excited about. It took Blair’s pointing finger along with several children encouraging me to get on my knees to finally see what all the excitement was about.

A tiny cocoon about 2 inches long was split and a butterfly was working itself free of its fragile prison. After several minutes the newly-emerged creature hung on the destroyed cocoon, blue-green wings beginning to unfurl and open.

“This is what the fuss is all about? I don’t get it.” I mumbled to Sandburg.

“Look around you. If you’re careful, you can see ten more cocoons under leaves or limbs. By the end of the night all of them will have opened.” Sandburg’s voice was hushed as he watched the delicate insect.

“So?”

Sandburg dropped his head for a moment and shook it slowly. He whispered something to one of the children gathered around him and the child darted away. “In this part of the jungle there are ten species on the threatened list, five more on the endangered list. Each time a butterfly emerges here, it’s one more step in keeping them alive and bringing them back from the brink of extinction. _**That’s __**_ _the big deal!”_

__The child Sandburg dispatched came back with a small clay jug and a plastic lid. Sandburg took both and opening the jug, he poured a tiny amount of liquid on the lid and placed it on the ground under the butterfly. “This is the nectar from the butterfly’s favorite flower. The plant has been almost destroyed, but there are five here, blooming. I try to encourage new butterflies to stay close; in this small grove. If I can get enough together to make a colony here, maybe there will be enough to start a migration._ _

__“Butterfly House.” I murmured, new understanding dawning. Sandburg looked quickly at me, eyes flashing, a quicksilver smile on his face. “So this is what you do?”_ _

__“Among other things.” The delicate blue-green insect floated to the ground. I could almost see it sniff out its first meal as it sampled the nectar and began to feed._ _

__I looked at Ellison who seemed to be just as enchanted by the insect. He’d pulled off the dark skull handkerchief that had covered his almost bald head and was wiping his neck. He roughly cleared his throat. “Simon, if you and Daryl are free, why don’t you join us for dinner?”_ _

__I could almost see the tension in him as he made the offer. Sandburg said something to Ellison with a smile in his eyes._ _

__“We’d be honored. But I don’t know if I can find this place again.”_ _

__Sandburg chuckled. “There’s only one road leading out of the village, Simon. You found this by following the signs. So follow the signs.” He glanced up at the sky. “Better have a flashlight and a rain jacket though. You’re in the jungle after all.”_ _

__I hadn’t really noticed that the sun was almost gone, long rays of the evening sun turning the low clouds dark red and purple._ _

__“We won’t have rain tonight, Chief. In fact, we should have clearing skies all night.”_ _

__“You heard the man, Simon. He’s never wrong. If you and Daryl show back up in two hours I’ll have dinner going. Hope you don’t mind local cuisine.”_ _

__“Where do you live? I didn’t see a home or cabin.” Of course I wasn’t looking for a residence when I took the trail through the jungle._ _

__"I’ll meet you at the sign over the trail.” Jim spoke up, meeting my eyes with a trace of warmth. “Be sure you bring the beer.”_ _

__I watched him silently as he slipped back into the jungle. Sandburg swung the child still watching the butterfly into his arms before following the Sentinel. My trek back to the trail took what little sunlight there was. Lamps were coming on in the tiny village as I found my way back to the lodge. The walk in the darkness gave me time to think._ _

__Two hours later, Daryl and I were standing under the Butterfly House sign. He was carrying two six-packs of various beers, a mix courtesy of the tiny grocery store when Daryl explained to the clerk where we were going. That moment in the store added another piece to the puzzle that was Ellison and Sandburg. My son had picked up a six pack of Budweiser and handed it to the clerk. While he was paying for it he mentioned ’Butterfly House’ and Sandburg‘s name. The elderly native woman, leathery skin and missing teeth, looked at Daryl, then me, took the beer back and disappeared into the back of the store for several minutes before returning with the two six-packs of various bottles. She sat it on the wood plank that acted as a counter and pushed Daryl’s money back to him._ _

__While I didn’t understand what the clerk said to Daryl, the words brought a smile to my son’s face, followed by a chuckle. I watched my twenty-something, six-foot-plus son take the frail hand of the old woman and press a kiss to her knuckles, much to her delight, expressed with a wide smile. Daryl picked up the cartons of beer and headed out: I didn’t have any choice but to follow._ _

__“What was that about?” I asked my son as we started down the gravel road to the hidden jungle trail, flashlights in hand._ _

__“When I told her we were taking the beer to the Butterfly House, she insisted on changing the beer to the ones that the ‘Sentinel and the Shaman’ like. Per Blair’s request she keeps a small selection of beer just for them.”_ _

__“Did she really say sentinel?” I questioned my son carefully._ _

__Daryl chuckled. “Yeah, she did. With great respect, I might add.” My son looked sideways at me as I watched where I put my feet on the round stones. “You never told me the whole story why they left Cascade.” Daryl shifted the beer to his other hand. “And don’t give me the line you used when I was a kid about classified.”_ _

__I had avoided this question for almost ten years. Daryl had graduated from high school, gone to college and was on the verge of graduating again, becoming the man I was proud of._ _

__“Dad? Can you talk about it? What happened?”_ _

__The memory still hurt when it reared up for attention in the darkest hours of the night. I played the yellow beam of light over dense trees as I organized my thoughts. The light picked up the sign suspended over the trail; the faded colors momentarily bright in the light. It was hard to voice the memory without making me out as the bad guy._ _

__“You know about the press conference and the dissertation mess.”_ _

__“Yeah, Dad. I heard your version and what little Blair told me filled in a few holes. Basically, Sandburg got screwed by everyone while trying to protect Ellison. You were caught in the middle and ended up protecting yourself and your position. Detective Ellison resigned because you wouldn’t defend Blair.”_ _

__“That’s one way of looking at it.” I mumbled to myself, feeling my face flame in the cool darkness. “You know Cascade Police offered Sandburg a badge.” That was old news._ _

__“And he turned it down.” Daryl’s voice was in front of me, a voice in the darkness only illuminated by a bobbing light that was shifting across the faded sign._ _

__“Not exactly.” I called toward the light. “He agreed to take the badge and attend the Academy.”_ _

__“But he didn’t go. Blair would never be a cop, even for Ellison.”_ _

__The night birds silenced as our lights and voices intruded into their world. I took a deep breath, mind swirling back to that year. “Daryl –“_ _

__I didn’t get any further in an explanation that I didn’t know how to tell. Ellison’s deep voice stopped the beginning of a painful tale._ _

__“You’re right, Daryl. He couldn’t be a cop, even for me. It took being in the wrong place at the right time to convince both of us.” Ellison stepped into the circle of light from my flashlight. He nodded toward me than turned to Daryl, offering his hand. Daryl took it, holding it firmly as he looked into Ellison’s highly shadowed face._ _

__“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Ellison.” He hesitated then raised the bag containing the beer. “The clerk at the store said this was your favorite beer.”_ _

__The comment brought a dark chuckle. “Sandburg figured out how to bribe her to include special requests in her orders. Never works for me. Good to see you, Daryl. I could make all sorts of comments about how you’ve grown, but I don’t think you need to hear that. You look like your father, only taller. What did you major in?”_ _

__“Criminal justice with a minor in computer science.”_ _

__“Good for you. Congratulations.” Ellison took the bag and tucked it under his arm. “Come on. Blair has dinner almost done.” He didn’t bother with the light, stepping confidently into the dark.__

Daryl glanced at me, and then followed Ellison, his light aimed at the ground just behind the Sentinel’s rapidly moving feet. I brought up the rear, mentally heaving a sigh of relief at Ellison’s timely appearance. I knew that the Sentinel must have waited in the jungle for the proper moment to reveal himself. I took that as a sign that either he didn’t want the story told, or he would tell it from the point of view that he had maintained from the very beginning to the second that he and Sandburg had left Cascade behind. Daryl wasn’t silent on the untold chronicle. “Are you going to tell me why you and Blair left?” 

__“We had a difference of opinion on how your father interpreted Sandburg’s actions at a drive-by. We left because Sandburg would never be accepted as a cop and he couldn’t be my partner without being a cop. Your father wouldn’t back Sandburg’s request to become a special consultant to Major Crimes based on his three years’ experience and his education.”_ _

__I listened to Ellison’s quiet tone, noting that the words were nearly identical to the argument we had voiced in my office a decade ago. Only now the tone was quiet and measured, almost resigned. This time there weren’t any shouting, any anger, and no furious blue eyes staring into mine as he pounded on my desk in frustration. I felt I should defend myself, but even after all these years, I hadn’t changed my mind regarding the decision I’d made._ _

__“Jim…” I tried again. “I am sorry this is how things worked out.” The jungle was silent around us. Daryl’s light flashed on me for a moment, the yellow beam almost blinding. I stepped closer, even with Ellison. “If you want to tell my son your version, I can’t stop you. I just want the chance to tell mine.”_ _

__The Sentinel chuckled, almost a cough, in the darkness. “Fair enough. I suppose Blair’s interpretation of past events should be added to the tale. Of course, we might never have dinner if you get him started.”_ _

__I added my own chuckle to the thought while observing that Jim didn’t acknowledge my apology. Ellison had a tenancy to hold grudges; I was very aware of that._ _

__Daryl spoke up. “I’m hungry. How far to your place, Mr. Ellison?”_ _

__Never was I so proud of my son to realize he was walking into a tense subject and taking action by voicing his desire for food. Maybe we wouldn’t sit around tonight and rehash ancient and painful history._ _

__Ellison chuckled again and I think he was just as relieved as I was to not bring up old memories. “Call me Jim, Daryl, or Enqueri, if you want to. Mr. Ellison was my father. Dinner is a five minute walk. Think your stomach can handle waiting that long? I could probably find something edible along the way, might still be wiggling.”_ _

__“I can wait. Enqueri, that’s Quechua, isn’t it? How did you get that name?”_ _

__Ellison’s retelling of his Chopec name kept my son’s interest for the remainder of our walk, ending as we stepped from the thick jungle growth to a small clearing, illuminated with torches that cast a small cabin in a soft flickering glow. The cabin was perched on crisscrossed posts, with three large stones acting as stairs leading to a deck made of long rough planks and logs. The roof was thick palm thatches, hanging over the deck. Sandburg was working over a fire pit in the corner of the clearing and a picnic table was covered in a tablecloth and dishes. A large kerosene lantern sat in the middle of the table casting a warm glow. Blair looked up from what he was doing when he heard our approach._ _

__“Jim. Glad you found them. The coals are perfect.” He reached for the bag that Jim handed over and looked into it, flashing a grin. “Gotta remember to thank Maria. She’s really good about getting special items now that I’ve shown her how to order off the Web.”_ _

__“She wouldn’t let me pay her.” Daryl commented._ _

__“Typical. I’ll take care of it.” Moments later everyone had a beer in hand and was standing around the fire pit. Conversation lagged between the four of us. I sighed and looked around the dimly lit clearing. One corner of the clearing contained a chicken wire fence and a small henhouse with lots of straw on the ground. A satellite dish and a large array of solar panels took up the corner next to the house. Thick cables ran from the solar panels to the back of the house. The interior of the small cabin glowed with soft light white and music flowed out the open door, drums and pipes lilting on the evening air._ _

__“I’m starved. When do we eat?” Daryl didn’t beat around the bush and Sandburg laughed, almost choking on his beer._ _

__“Good. Since you hadn’t had any luck with fishing I thought you would appreciate some grilled trout I got this morning. Will that work for you Daryl? Or would you prefer a sample of roasted guinea pig? That’s considered a local staple.”_ _

__“Guinea pig?” I coughed around my beer. “You have got to be kidding?"_ _

__Ellison sat his empty bottle down and reached for a rack with handles on the table. “Protein is protein. At least it’s not grubs.” Silently Sandburg handled him a covered dish and Ellison draped large fillets on the rack, topping them with onion slices. He handed the loaded rack to Blair and exchanged it for an empty one, repeating the process. As soon as both racks were filled Sandburg placed them on bricks nestled in the coals. Ellison used tongs to roll several foiled wrapped potatoes out of the coals._ _

__I watched them work together silently, their ballet over the coals a sign of years of partnership. The questions I had for how they had landed here and survived burned in the back of my mind. Daryl didn’t have my hesitation regarding questions that might be considered being nosy._ _

__“What have you been doing? It’s been years since you left the States. No phone calls, no postcards, nothing. Why?” Suddenly the crickets and night birds filled the silence. Blair and Jim exchanged glances, then Jim handed me another beer. How many 6-packs did we bring?_ _

__“I’ve been helping the local community regarding police and security manners. Sandburg teaches.”_ _

__Sandburg flipped the racks containing the fish fillets. “That’s about ten percent of what we do.” Blair poured a little of his beer on the fish, followed by handfuls of leaves and spices. “Jim has delivered babies…”_ _

__“Once.” Ellison looked into beer ignoring Sandburg’s jibe._ _

__“Twins. He’s rescued a bunch of kids from a raft in the river.”_ _

__“Only because they were too scared to put their feet down. The water was only waist deep.”_ _

__“They couldn’t swim, Jim.”_ _

__“And now every kid in the village can swim.” Ellison peeled the paper label off his beer bottle, his eyes following his fingers and ignoring everyone._ _

__“Because you stormed into the elementary school and demanded that every kid spend three evenings a week with you until you were satisfied they could take care of themselves in the water.”_ _

__“I didn’t hear any objections from you. I seem to remember you persuading a lot of parents to learn to swim as well. The knowledge that families living close to the water without knowing how to save themselves really shook you.”_ _

__“True. We haven’t had a child drown in over a year. Considering that three years ago the tribe lost an entire family, I think the results speak for themselves.” Sandburg saluted Jim with his beer bottle. “Never argue with success.”_ _

__Jim raised his bottle. “Agreed.”_ _

__I watched both of them. Daryl looked at me then at the two men who we claimed to be friends years ago. He finished his beer and put the bottle back into the six pack holder before taking another one. “So you’re teachers, guardians, medics, environmentalists, chief cook and bottle washers. Did I forget anything?” Daryl sipped his newly opened beer._ _

__“Works for me.” Sandburg pulled the racks holding the fish out of the coals. “Let’s eat. Jim, the corn is in the pot on the back of the fire. Grab it, will you?”_ _

__Ellison did so and we settled around the gaily covered picnic table. Sandburg used large tongs to fish out huge ears of white corn that he placed on a flat corn husk next to the silver wrapped potato. “Bon appétit,” he murmured before settling next to Ellison who was sliding the fish onto the plates._ _

__What can I say? It was marvelous, probably the best meal I’d eaten since we had left the states. Daryl nodded his approval with his mouth full. The potato was bright red inside, fluffy and perfect. The corn was sweet and the fish flaky. Silence reigned as we plowed our way through the meal._ _

__I was embarrassed to see both of us reaching for seconds of everything. Sandburg grinned at everyone as he picked up the foil from the potatoes and tossed the corn husks into the glowing coals. Jim took the well chewed corn cobs and added them to the fire._ _

__“We have dessert,” Jim announced as he trotted up the stone stairs and into the small cabin. He returned with a wood platter of sliced fruits and a bowl of nuts, which he sat in the center of the cleared table._ _

__Daryl groaned. “Now you tell me.” But he took a small handful of nut pieces and popped them into his mouth. He chewed for a moment and then looked at Sandburg. “Have I eaten nuts like these in the States?”_ _

__“I doubt it. Jim brought them in from the jungle earlier today. Those are ‘sacha inchi’, but you’ve probably heard of it as ‘Inca peanut’.” Sandburg pointed toward a couple slices of fruit. “Those are custard apple slices, and those are a type of cherry. I’ve got quite a few different fruits growing in the jungle around us, but they go best in juices or as sauces. Except for the limes, of course.” He took a slice of the custard apple and popped it into his mouth with an eye-closing smile. “I love these,” he moaned around the fruit before swallowing. “I could eat these every day.”_ _

__“And weigh a ton at the end of the year.” Ellison popped a slice into his mouth too. “Good thing we don’t have a grove of these close.”_ _

__I took a slice and sniffed it before following their example. And promptly wished for more. The fruit felt like a warm ripe apple in my mouth and tasted somewhere between cheesecake and apple sauce. “Can you buy these at a store?” Daryl stole the last one on the plate before I could reach for it. He smiled at me as he stuffed it into his mouth, his eyes growing wide at the taste._ _

__Sandburg nodded. “Sometimes. Not in the city but if the market is open you can probably find a farmer selling them tomorrow. You’ll have to eat them here; you can’t take them out of the country.”_ _

__“Why?” Daryl reached for a cherry and sampled it, approving the taste with a nod._ _

__“Quarantine rules,” Ellison rumbled. He reached for another beer, passed me one and saluted me with the bottle. “Been a long time since I’ve had more than one beer in an evening with friends around dinner. Thanks, Simon.” He sipped it and then passed the open bottle to Sandburg._ _

__Sandburg took a sip and passed it back. I had this brief thought that the two of them lived a subsistence lifestyle, and that a beer might be considered a luxury. I took another look at their surroundings. Did they live at the edge of the jungle because they chose to or because they couldn’t afford something else? My scan of the area ended at Jim and I met his ice blue eyes._ _

__“Don’t make assumptions, Simon. We are here because we want to be here. Sandburg and I belong here. We fit here. We don’t regret our decisions to leave civilization behind.” Ellison’s voice contained a contented rumble and warning all in the same tone. His eyes never left mine and I couldn’t help but remember how those ice eyes froze me in my tracks all those years ago. Those eyes hadn’t changed and I finally had to look away._ _

__The evening was drawing to a close and I knew it. Dinner, dessert, a couple beers with old friends; no conversation about future meetings; no offers to tour their home; nothing to suggest future contact. There was no warmth between us, nothing that alluded to years of friendship or history of a working relationship. I stood up and finished my beer before sliding the empty bottle back into the holder._ _

__Jim stood up, looked at Daryl and me. He finished his beer and placed his bottle back into the holder. Sandburg stepped into Jim’s body space and Ellison’s long arm draped across the shorter man’s shoulders. They exchanged a quick glance._ _

__“I’ll walk you back up to the road. It’s late and the jungle can be a little intimidating in the dark. It’s not a city street, but the hazards can be just as real.” Jim tightened his grip on Sandburg’s shoulder for a moment before stepping away and making a quick dash into the cabin. He returned with a bow and quiver across his shoulders and a heavy firearm stuck into a belt mounted holster. Sandburg went back to cleaning up the table. I felt that I needed to say something to him. Ten years was a long time to maintain a grudge, or to withhold an apology._ _

__“Blair.” My words stuck in my throat. How could I sum up ten years of life in a few words? The gaze that met mine was clear and open; a far cry from the pain-filled gaze I remembered from the past. “Are you happy? The two of you?” I motioned toward the surroundings. “Living here, like this.” I didn’t know how to say what I needed to say. I desperately needed to say I was sorry for not standing up for him, for not believing in him, for not believing in the bond that existed between Sentinel and Shaman._ _

__Ellison stayed behind Daryl, giving me the chance to speak to Sandburg without interference. I felt Ellison’s presence like a cold breeze on my neck but I appreciated that he was keeping his distance._ _

__“Simon, we’re fine. Jim and I are fine. We are doing what a tribal sentinel would do if the world would let him. He is doing what he was meant to do, and so am I.” He glanced at his Sentinel with a smile and chuckle. “We have everything we need.”_ _

__It wasn’t quite what I was looking for, but I hadn’t apologized either. I had to accept it. I shook his hand and he pulled me into a brief, solid hug. He did the same to my son. We left him standing in the circle of light with a gentle smile on his face._ _

__Daryl and I followed Ellison up the jungle path, our flashlights aimed at his feet. The night birds and crickets were singing and the jungle air was warm and moist. It smelled of green, growing things. Ellison’s long legged steps were silent on the leaves and gravel. He didn’t break our silence. At the top of the path we stopped and Ellison looked at me._ _

__“You’re welcome to visit again, Simon. You too, Daryl. Let Maria at the store know you’re coming and we’ll meet you.” His eyes were in the shadows but he extended his hand into our small circle of yellow light. I took his hand and was surprised when he pulled me into a firm hug and whispered, “It was good to see you, Simon.” He let go as fast as the hug had started. He gripped Daryl’s arm in a warrior’s clasp and nodded toward me. “Take care of him, Daryl. He’s turning into an old man.”_ _

__With that, he stepped back into the jungle path and disappeared. I was left with my son on the gravel road that led into the tiny village. We didn’t have a choice but to walk away, leaving behind friends with unvoiced regrets._ _

__Daryl finally broke the silence. “When we get back to the States, I get the whole story of how you let your friend and Cascade’s Sentinel walk away.”_ _

__I nodded. It was time for the whole story to be told - if nothing else to ease the burden in my soul._ _

__-End- Toshua 2013_ _

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by meeting a young man in the jungles of Peru trying to revive a butterfly population. His 'Butterfly House' was a highlight of the trip.
> 
> Thanks to Shelagh C for her betaing skills. Much appreciated.


End file.
